Chapter 2: Bach’s Tradition versus Modern Tradition
“Furthermore, he [the composer] must have acquired a correct feeling for the natural tempo of every meter, or for what is called tempo giusto. This is attained by diligent study of all kinds of dance pieces. Every dance has its definite tempo, determined by the meter and note values that are employed in it.” – Johann Philip Kirnberger
The Idea of tempo giusto
In the eighteenth century, the normal or natural tempo that represents the music most clearly was known as tempo giusto, also sometimes referred to as tempo ordinario. Eighteenth-century performers were generally steeped in tradition and would have rarely chosen a tempo outside the accepted range for any given style. It was not until the time of Beethoven that composers and performers began to do away with the idea of tempo giusto and to challenge established conventions. In a letter to his publisher in 1826 Beethoven claimed, "We can scarcely have tempi ordinari any longer, since one must fall into line with the ideas of unfettered genius.”[1]
Bach's most renowned student and disciple, Johann Philip Kirnberger, emphasizes that the proper tempo giusto for any one style can be determined from the combination of dance type, meter, note values, and tempo words. In essence, Kirnberger implies that there were a limited number of standard tempos, which were governed by objective, musical phenomena:
Furthermore, he [the composer] must have acquired a correct feeling for the natural tempo of every meter, or for what is called tempo giusto. This is attained by diligent study of all kinds of dance pieces. Every dance has its definite tempo, determined by the meter and note values that are employed in it. Regarding meter, those having larger values, like alla breve, 3/2, and 6/4 meter, have a heavier and slower tempo than those of smaller values, like 2/4, 3/4, and 6/8 meter, and these in turn are less lively than 3/8 or 6/16 meter. Thus, for example, a loure in 3/2 (6/4) has a slower tempo than a menuet in 3/4 meter, and the latter is in turn slower than a passepied in 3/8 meter. Regarding note values, dance pieces involving sixteenth and thirty-second notes have a slower tempo than those that tolerate only eighth and at most sixteenth notes as the fastest note values in the same meter. Thus, for example, a sarabande in 3/4 meter has a slower tempo than a menuet, even though both are written in the same meter.
Thus, the tempo giusto is determined by the meter and the longer and shorter note values of a composition. Once the young composer has a feeling for this, he will soon understand to what degree the adjectives largo, adagio, andante, allegro, presto, and their modifications larghetto, andantino, allegretto, and prestissimo add or take away from the fast or slow motion of the natural tempo. He will soon be able to write in every type of tempo, but also in such a way that this tempo is captured quickly and correctly by the performers.[2]
It could be assumed that any one type of dance or meter always implies the same tempo; however, the note values used in some dances of the same type vary considerably—the "longer and shorter note values"—and the tempos usually differ accordingly. For example, some sarabandes are extremely ornate with thirty-second and sixty-fourth notes, while others are sparsely notated, with just eighths and sixteenths. In most cases, the increased number of notes dictates a slower beat, meaning that not all sarabandes have the same tempo; hence, there is not one tempo giusto for sarabandes, but several. Sometimes, different dances often feature the same or related meters and note values—for example, sicilianos, correntes, and passepieds, all of which have a meter of denominator “8” and consist of prevailing sixteenth-note motion. Presumably, each of these styles should have a different tempo giusto, which is implied by difference of dance rather than difference of meter and/or note values. On the other hand, it is also possible that two or more different styles with similar meters and note values could have the same tempo. In addition to considering dance types, meters, and note values, the inclusion of a tempo word may also be a determining factor in choosing the tempo giusto. Although Bach usually did not supply tempo words in keyboard and vocal music, he regularly supplied tempo words in chamber music. Recognizing stylistic similarities between a movement with a tempo word and a movement with no tempo word makes it possible to determine the kind of tempo Bach had in mind for the latter.
Kirnberger’s descriptions indicate that the tempo giusto for any one piece should be determined according to several factors, and the entire process entails much more detail than simply grouping pieces into common meters and/or dances and assigning identical tempos.[3] In sum, at least nine factors should contribute to the determination of the tempo giusto for any one piece:
style of composition (dance or other style)
tempo words (if any)
meter
density or sparsity of note values
rhythmic motives
melodic motives
rhythmic phraseology
harmonic rhythm
text (if vocal work)
A Reappraisal of Bach Tempo Traditions
Most of Bach’s works have acquired standard tempos that have stood the test of time and been accepted by most performers and listeners. With the occasional exception of “radical” or “provocative” interpreters, such as Glenn Gould, performers do not perform slow works fast or fast works slow, unless the established tradition has been mistaken from the beginning. In other words, the only reason a performer would perform a slow piece fast or vice versa is if the performer did not know any better.
The “established tradition” referred to can be defined, more specifically, as the tradition of Bach performance that was cultivated during the Bach revival beginning in 1829, which was roughly concurrent with when Beethoven admitted to abolishing the conventional tempos of previous generations.[4] When performing Bach’s music on the piano — especially in his later years in the 1820s — Beethoven most likely abolished many of Bach’s old-fashioned tempi giusti in order to adapt the music to contemporary fashion and to comply with the prevailing musical esthetic. This esthetic was generally one of extreme slows and fasts as opposed to the narrower tempo ranges, and thus, more “neutral” tempos of the eighteenth-century. Ignaz Moscheles (1794-1870), writing in the second half of the nineteenth century, complains about contemporary fashion, how he misses the right tempos, and looks in vain for the traditions of his youth. Considering Moscheles’ birthdate, the youthful years to which he refers were the first two decades of the nineteenth century, meaning that the outdated conservative tempo traditions were beginning to be broken in the 1820s, which was the time Beethoven began abolishing the old-fashioned tempos ordinari.
I know many think me old-fashioned, but the more I consider the tendency of modern taste. . . the more strenuously will I uphold that which I know to be sound art, and side with those who can appreciate a Haydn’s playfulness, a Mozart’s cantilena, and a Beethoven’s surpassing grandeur. What antidotes have we here for all these morbid moanings and overwrought effects!. . . Here as elsewhere I miss the right tempos, and look in vain for the traditions of my youth. That tearing speed which sweeps away many a little note, that spinning out of an Andante until it becomes and Adagio, an Andante con moto, in which there is no moto at all, an Allegro comodo which is anything but comfortable. . .[5]
Beethoven’s “historically incorrect” Bach tempos were then passed on to his most famous student, Carl Czerny (1791-1857), whose edition of The Well-Tempered Clavier, with all its Beethovenian metronome marks, became a main staple of pianists in the nineteenth century. Having now been virtually cast into stone, the Bach tempo traditions begun by Beethoven, documented by Czerny, and kept alive by succeeding generations of nineteenth-century pedagogues made their way into the twentieth century. These early twentieth-century Bach tempo traditions continued to be accepted by performers and audiences and were perpetuated further by new generations of pedagogues who influenced the first generation of recording artists born in the early twentieth century. Before long, recordings of Bach’s works with presumably Beethovenian tempos became the inspiration of a new generation of pedagogues and performers, who subsequently passed on the torch to many of the current influential artists.
It was not until the authenticity movement of the 1960s and 70s that performer-scholars first began to seriously reappraise the established tempo traditions in Bach’s music. Although there has in the last thirty or forty years been a valiant effort in restoring Bach’s tempos to their natural pre-Beethovenian states, analysis indicates that up-to-date historically informed performers choose tempos that are, ironically, often no more historically correct than the presumably “old-fashioned romantic” tempos popular in the first half of the twentieth century.[6] Analysis suggests that the extremely fast tempos we are now accustomed to, particularly in works such as the Orchestral Suites and Brandenburg Concertos, have been more the result of zealous reformers’ reactions against “outdated” or “old-fashioned” tempos rather than from objective musical analysis and historical research. Strangely enough, as fast and “high tech” as many of Bach’s tempos have now become, analysis suggests that zealous reformers are sometimes, ironically, no less steeped in nineteenth-century tradition as, say, a Klemperer, Karajan, or Casals.
Current Bach tempo traditions are probably no more historically correct than in the nineteenth century. Beethoven and his contemporaries began speeding up some works and slowing down other works. The historically informed performers of the second half of the twentieth century began speeding up many of the presumably slow tempos of previous generations, yet at the same time unknowingly clung to some old-fashioned traditions to which they are so adamantly opposed. To further complicate the picture, the mainstream or traditional performers of Bach’s music choose tempos that are often different from the “purists.” In short, Bach tempo traditions have become more confused and mixed-up than ever before. This calls for serious study and reappraisal.
To successfully break down the “Beethoven barrier” and determine what Bach’s tempos were, it is necessary first and foremost that the reader leaves all biases behind. The reader shall pretend to have never been steeped in nineteenth-century tradition, which forms the cornerstone of musical training in most universities, conservatories, and studios. The reader shall also admit that many of the tempos we have become accustomed to are quite possibly more the speeds at which Beethoven, Liszt, or Wagner performed Bach’s music rather than the speeds at which Bach performed Bach’s music. Ideally, tempo determination in Bach’s music becomes a true science only by pretending to have never heard or performed any music composed after 1750. As tempting as it is to accept and emulate a sparkling Gould performance of, say, a Goldberg Variation, or wallow in the “sadness” of, say, a sacred aria in a minor key, we must not let the nineteenth-century preoccupation with virtuosity and languishing slowness influence our sense of scientific objectivity.
**********************************************
Endnotes
[1] Emily Anderson, translator and editor. The Letters of Beethoven (London: Macmillan, 1961), 727.
[2] Die Kunst des reinen Satzes in der Musik (Berlin, 1774-79). Translated by David Beach and Jürgen Thym as The Art of Strict Musical Composition (New Haven: Yale University Press, 1982), 376-77.
[3] Erwin Bodky does this in Interpretation of Bach’s Keyboard Works (Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 1960). Bodky puts the keyboard music into tempo categories using the tempos M.M. 40, 60, 80, 100, 120. In general, this system is very general and even according to Bodky is probably “arbitrary.” Bodky seems to consider meter, dance type, and tempo words, but nothing else.
[4] The Bach revival is traditionally thought to have begun in 1829 with Mendelssohn’s famous performance of Bach’s St. Matthew Passion at the Berlin Singakadamie.
[5] Charlotte Moscheles, ed. Life of Moscheles with Selections from his Diaries and Correspondence. Translated by A. D. Coleridge, 2 vols. (London: Hurst and Blackett, 1873), II, 286.
[6] Bernard D. Sherman believes the same: “Below I suggest that certain tempos prevalent in HIP Bach ignore notational distinctions and are, as a result, less historical than pre-HIP tempos.” “Bach’s notation of tempo and early music performance: some reconsiderations.” Early Music (August 2000), 455-66.
